200 THE ESSEX NATURALIST.
they learn to swim steadily through the other fowl, guessing
by the ear which pipe they are to come to; and lastly they are
familiar with the sight of the decoyman, so as to take no alarm
when he shows himself suddenly between the screens.
All wild-fowl in taking flight from the water rise head to the
wind, so that the decoyman can make no captures except in
those pipes from which the wind blows into the pond ; hence the
reason for having pipes extending in different directions to suit
every wind, but being obliged to approach the birds from the
windward he holds before his mouth a piece of lighted turf to
keep them from scenting him. Armed with this turf, accom-
panied by his dog, and with a basket of food (refuse corn and
grass-seeds) upon his arm he cautiously approaches the proper
pipe, and first satisfying himself that no birds are accidentally
already in the pipe, he makes his way to the end nearest the
pond. Then whistling to his tame ducks, he throws two or
three handfuls of food over the screen so that it falls into the
mouth of the pipe, and is partly drifted by the wind into the
open water. His tame ducks, hearing the call, swim into the
pipe and begin eagerly to devour the food. The wild-fowl about
the mouth of the pipe, tasting a few grains which have been
blown within their reach and seeing the tame birds securely
feeding, are tempted also to join them under the net; the decoy-
man, watching every movement through the peep-holes, goes
back a screen or two and throws another handful of food into
the pipe higher up, and the birds gradually gaining confidence
follow after it. It is not necessary that they should advance far
up the pipe as once under the net their fate is sealed; but the
decoyman waits till the party feeding is detached from the main
flock in the pond, whose curiosity does not appear to be roused,
and then running briskly back to the screen nearest the pond,
but where he is still hidden from the birds on the open water,
suddenly shows himself behind those in the pipe and waving
his hat frightens them into flight. Misled by the bend which
seems to promise escape they fly headlong up the pipe, some of
them striking the top of the net in their course and falling back
into the water, but immediately rising again, till all scramble
and flutter into the tunnel-net, where the decoyman, who has
been following them with gestures—he dare not make a noise—
detaches the net and secures the whole flock. At one time,
after the birds had been enticed into the pipe, a net used to be
let fall, in the manner of a portcullis, to cut off their retreat,
but experience soon proved that no bird but a very old stager,
who by his frequent visits had learnt the secrets of the pond,
would break the custom of rising head to wind—i.e., in the
direction of the tunnel net—and that it required nothing but the